


how long (before you leave me)

by Rasiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: Sirius overhears a conversation he definitely shouldn't have. As a result, Remus stays in England longer than planned and Peter isn't the Secret Keeper.(Where have you gone? Where are you going? Where are you now?)
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 127





	how long (before you leave me)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, you know those moments where you start writing and then just keep going? Yeah, that's how you type up 4477 words after only intending to write maybe half that if you were lucky. So yes, it was 4 in the morning when I first posted this, and I'm just grateful I don't have to go to work today, tomorrow, or any day for the rest of the week for that matter. Paycheck will suck, but it's not like I'm leaving the house to spend any money anyway.
> 
> The prompt was a dialogue prompt from the solve the rubiks cube challenge on HPFC: "Do you really love me?"
> 
> I've gotta be honest, here, I completely forgot about it for a while. Then I remembered and had to keep writing to fit it in there.

War isn't pretty. It isn't fun. It isn't hopeful, and it doesn't provide any peace of mind.

Sirius honestly thought it would. Fighting against Death Eaters--making them pay for the suffering they've caused--it seemed like a good idea.

Instead, he's found that his ideas of what it would be like were totally wrong. There's no professionalism. It's not bound by any code of honor. These people kill without thought and torture without mercy. He has to dodge deadly curses every time he leaves his flat because he's a well known member of the Order. They're especially vicious to him--most of them are his blood family, after all. It's sickening.

However, that isn't the worst part. The worst part by far is the loneliness.

He's with people, obviously. He has the Order, he has James and Lily, his friends.

War isn't pretty. War is insidious. It breaks past defenses and rips apart reality.

He didn't even realize it, at first. Stray thoughts were easily dismissed.

"There's a spy in the Order," Dumbledore had said.

 _He's recruiting dark creatures. He's making deals, making promises. Better people have gone insane for a chance to be free from the pain._ (When did he start thinking that there were better people than the love of his life?) _Infiltration. Missions far from home. Gone for weeks._

_Where have you gone? Where are you going? Where are you now?_

...

It's nearly six in the morning when Sirius stumbles into his flat.

The sun is peaking through the curtains; he waves his wand and they swing shut to block the light.

He shrugs out of his coat and throws it over the back of the couch. Remus would nag him about it if he were here, but he's not, and hasn't been for two weeks now. The scarf tries to meet the same fate, but he misses the couch when he tosses it over there, so onto the floor it goes. He can't bring himself to care too much and just walks into the kitchen for tea.

The flat's a mess. Lately Remus has just stopped mentioning it. It's unlike him to let mess accumulate, but Sirius is so relieved to have silence that he doesn't think about _why_ Remus would stop saying anything. It would concern him if he could muster the energy for it. But he can't, so it doesn't.

He has to wash a mug and the kettle to even get started; he would use magic but there's something soothing about having hot water running over his cold hands. When it's clean he has to clean off the stove next. It takes fifteen minutes before he can finally boil the water.

By that time there's a click by the front door.

He looks over just in time to see Remus come inside. He's staring at the floor and moving slowly, each step measured. He's dirtier than the kitchen sink.

Their eyes meet for a second when Remus hangs up his coat. It's a moment that lasts forever and then when it's over it was hardly a heartbeat. Sirius watches in silence as Remus just glances at the mess that is their living room and then sighs. He waits for the lecture but none is forthcoming; Remus just walks by him without a word. The bathroom door shuts and the shower turns on.

No greeting, no smile. Hell, Sirius didn't even check that it was Remus who walked in and not some imposter.

In his heart he knows that was Remus. He knows it the same way he knows his own reflection.

No Death Eater actually looks that dead.

...

He wants to ask.

_Where were you? What mission did Dumbledore supposedly send you on this time? What were you doing? Can you tell me a damn thing? How long before you leave again?_

Instead, they sit in silence.

Three weeks ago, Sirius looked at Remus and felt fear and anger. He's been vanishing without a word a lot lately and there's a spy there's a spy _there's a spy_ \-- And what about Harry? What was he supposed to do, what could he make of this?

Now? Now he's just numb.

He wants to talk to James and Lily about this, especially Lily; she'd know what to do.

He looks at Remus and knows intellectually that that's the same man he fell for at fourteen years old, the same one who cared for him at his worst, who loved him through all the pain Sirius had put him through. He looks at Remus and knows even now that he doesn't deserve him. He never did. But he's beginning to wonder where that Remus went, when he disappeared, why he left. If he left. Or is he just being stupid?

Lately the pattern is simple. Remus comes home and within two days he's usually gone again, so soon and so quietly that Sirius has just gotten used to living alone. He's never liked being alone, but there's nothing for it. He's not about to have anyone else move in.

He might not trust Remus very much anymore, but they're still engaged and Sirius isn't looking to end it or cheat unless his suspicions are proven true. If they're not, they'll be married under wisteria trees, like they'd always wanted, always planned.

Assuming Remus still wants that, after all this mess. He's not made any move to leave--all of his things are still here; he still sleeps in their bed when he's home--but their relationship might be beyond repair.

Which is terrifying. It's more than he can bear.

Laying in bed, he stares at the ring on his left hand in contemplation. It's a plain gold band with their nicknames engraved on the inside.

Remus is sound asleep beside him. He's been here for three days and they haven't exchanged a word in all that time.

Sirius looks away from the ring to the man who bought it for him. There's a cut on his neck that he hadn't seen before. The wolf wouldn't have done that to him; it would never so obviously endanger its own life. Someone did that. Someone took some kind of blade to Remus' neck and drew blood enough to scar.

Why wouldn't Remus say something? By Merlin, how close had he been to death? It's not an old cut, but it's healed. It couldn't be more than a month old, a month and a half, maybe. Sirius reaches out and only just stops himself from touching it, heart in his throat. Instead, he gently runs his fingers through Remus' sleep-mussed hair, which is sun-bleached and thinner than he remembers. He can feel patches where some might've been torn out.

"What are you doing, Moony?" he breathes, but Remus doesn't wake. His breath remains slow and even, countenance soft.

Sirius is closer to his lover than he's been in weeks, and he's feeling the heartbreak keenly these days. He can't stop himself from curling closer, not quite touching. He falls asleep with Remus' image sharp in his mind.

...

He wakes up alone.

He knows immediately that this isn't going to be a good day; there's something of a physical weight on his chest that he can't get rid of. He'd dreamed of Hogwarts again, but this time a recurring scene where he and Remus had been talking and kissing in their dorm. He can't remember what they'd been talking about; it doesn't really matter, either. That happened so many times over the years--at least three times a week, usually more.

They're going on day four of no talking, assuming Remus is still here; if he's not, then it's going on nearly a month.

He hauls himself out of bed and into the shower. When he's dressed, he heads to the kitchen, and low voices make him stop in the hall, straining to hear.

"...understand your concerns, Remus, but you know it's imperative that--"

"Oh, to hell with that, Albus! This is wrecking my life; I can't keep doing this. Greyback found me last time, you know--damn near killed me. He knows I'm no ally of his."

Sirius is shocked by the strain in Remus' voice, how pained he sounds--literally and figuratively.

"Yes, Remus, I know. Please, you must continue--we need to make sure the Dark Lord has as few werewolves on his side as possible, and you're the only one who can do this."

"Ah, but I can't, Albus," Remus counters, and then Sirius hears him sigh. "They're agreeing to remain neutral or to leave, but they're not joining us. I've gone all over Europe, now--their opinions aren't changing no matter where I am. They want the freedom he promises and we're allies with the Ministry. It's insane to expect that they'd want to join a cause that actively suppresses their freedom--fuck, I'm crazy for still doing this. The only reason I'm not being thrown to the woods is because of you--and I'm grateful, don't mistake me for being otherwise--and the general population doesn't know about my condition."

"Please, you must keep trying--"

"No. No, I can't. Give me something else to do. Let me go on the front lines. I'm one of your best fighters by a landslide and everyone knows it. I could hand more Death Eaters to the Aurors in a day than the others can in a week, simply because I can move faster. I'm tired of spying for you--I'm not getting any good information anyway. I've not had a decent report to give you for months, you said it yourself."

There's a moment of quiet where Sirius holds his breath, not daring to move. Remus' hearing is beyond anything Sirius could imagine, but he hasn't caught him yet. Pauses give him the opportunity to be more aware of his surroundings.

"Perhaps you're right," Dumbledore says eventually. "I can give you the folder I was going to give Sirius, and you both can take care of it. Here." There's a rustle of paper. "Suspected Death Eaters on the north side of Godric's Hollow; I've no doubt you know why that needs to be taken care of tonight."

"James and Lily live somewhere around there, don't they? They've not invited me to their house, so I have no idea what's going on anymore." Remus' voice is deceptively light, but Sirius can hear the underlying grief. He's not sure what to think. "Regardless, you'll be their Secret Keeper come next week, won't you?"

"That's currently being debated."

"...you're joking, right? I wouldn't trust anyone but you to take care of that."

"Sirius seems to think he could do the job."

"Oh, no. No. I don't care who it is. I'd go straight to James and Lily right now and tell them to get their heads out of their asses and go with good sense over Sirius' notoriously risky plans, if I were you. Tell them I said to remember the incident with the chickens and Mrs. Potter's good silverware."

"I'm going to assume that did not end well?"

"It most certainly didn't."

"Very well, Remus. You and Sirius come see me in the morning with a report on how that mission goes, and we'll talk again. I'll speak with James and Lily tonight. Have a good day."

"You too."

...

Sirius heads back to the bedroom and spends the next hour thinking. Guilt and uncertainty war within him, and he can't decide what to do. Remus spoke with Dumbledore and never once tried to get James and Lily's address from them, which is good. The conversation also explained where Remus has been--werewolf reconnaissance? Dumbledore must be out of his mind. It explains Remus' exhaustion, his long periods away, the new scars. The toll that those missions have taken from all of them--especially he and Remus--is very high, and Sirius can't blame him for not wanting to continue. Sirius never would've thought of doing that in the first place.

His head hurts and he feels sick with the weight of his emotions. He wishes more than anything that they were sixteen again, secure and happy and _together_ \--

"Sirius?"

There's a knock on the door. Remus opens it slowly, peering inside. "I thought you'd still be asleep," he says in surprise.

"Been awake for a little while," he says as Remus steps into the room.

He wants to bring up the conversation with Dumbledore but doesn't know how. Or what he would even say, for that matter.

Remus sits next to him on the bed, radiating uncertainty. "I, um--I spoke with Dumbledore this morning. He gave me this, said we're to investigate it tonight."

Sirius takes the folder and opens it. It's fairly standard, all things considered--he doubts they'll find much. It's still too close for comfort.

"How'd they guess about Godric's Hollow?" he asks.

"No idea," Remus says, and Sirius almost believes him. "Guess that spy probably tipped them off last meeting." He sighs and rests his head on Sirius' shoulder. "Dear Merlin, I can't wait for this to be done. Good news is though that I'm stationed back here."

"What were you doing?"

This question has always been dodged, before. Remus avoided it like the plague, always changing the subject or flat out ignoring him.

This time, though, he says, "Dumbledore sent me to Germany, last time. Potential allies in some town called Flensburg, but they were quite happy living in the mountains. They'll stay firmly out of the war."

Sirius could just about cry from relief. He settles for pressing a kiss to Remus' hair.

He goes back to reading the file.

The silence feels less crushing, but no less tentative.

...

Godric's Hollow turned out to be a relatively low-ranking Death Eater stationed alone. They arrested him, and now, Sirius and Remus have returned to that soul-wrenching stasis where barely any words are exchanged. Dumbledore is talking with the Potters about security, and has been for two days, so no progress has been made elsewhere.

Sirius, despite himself, is finding that his trust in Remus was not as fragile as he thought. One overheard conversation where Remus was answering all of his haunting questions has given him new hope. He doesn't want to give into it and have his heart broken again, but he can't help but fall into the old instinct of turning to Remus when something was wrong. He wants Remus to soothe the hurt and wash away the suspicion so that they can go back to being what they once were.

It helps that Remus clearly doesn't plan on going anywhere. Very rarely does Sirius not have him in his line of sight, and when he doesn't, he can hear him in the flat. There's no second set of footsteps, no knocks on the door, no owls in the windows. They're undisturbed and with each passing hour--hours are worth everything, for the faster you can report the faster you can retaliate--the more relaxed he becomes.

Remus started cleaning this morning. Sirius can't help but feel relieved at the familiarity--the faint smell of bleach, the sound of the dishes being cleaned, the sight of Remus with his sleeves rolled up. It's been worrying that the chaos was just allowed to take over under Remus' careful watch.

He's not scolded for the mess, which is disappointing; hearing Remus' voice two days ago for the first time in ages has made him realize just _how much_ he'd missed him.

Still, time continues to pass without change.

...

Three days later finds Sirius in front of James and Lily for the first time in a month.

They're haggard and jumpy. Lily looks exhausted and James is clearly petrified. They both smile when they see him, but they're strained. Lily has her hair pulled back in knots. James has very dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey, Padfoot," he says, and Sirius grins at him, worried.

"Hey, Prongs. Lily, my dear. You two don't look so good," he says. Lily laughs anxiously.

"We know, believe me. This is--horrific. I can't believe it's reached this point," she says, and then swings around to look at the tree branch that hits the window in the wind. "Oh, dear Merlin," she mutters, breath quickening. "Fuck." She turns to James. "Harry?"

"Asleep upstairs; should I get him?" James checks, already moving to do just that. Lily nods, frantic.

"Sorry we're not much company, Sirius," she says, peering up the stairs. "I'm just a bit--"

"It's alright," he answers. "I get it. I want you guys safe just as much as I want me and Remus safe."

Lily pauses. "Remus? I thought you didn't trust him." She looks at him with the most focus he's seen from her tonight. "Did he prove himself, then?"

Her tone suggests how little she approves of his opinion; he winces guiltily. "I overheard him talking to Dumbledore," he says.

James comes back down the stairs with Harry asleep on his shoulder. Lily looks unspeakably relieved at the sight of her husband and son, and moves closer to them. The three of them sit on the couch. At Lily's nod, Sirius takes a seat across from them.

"Tell me," Lily demands, so he does.

He leaves nothing out--he'd been vague before about his suspicions, and was correct in his assumption that James and Lily wouldn't like them. Their faces steadily darken as he speaks, and when he's finally done, they're quiet for a moment.

Then, "You're a fucking moron, Sirius," James says. "That's your _fiancé_. He's our best friend. What's wrong with you? Just because he's a werewolf doesn't mean he's a traitor; you know what we mean to him!"

Hearing that is like a dose of cold water. "I know," he says, near tears. "I don't know what to do. I'm fucking terrified, James. I'd give anything to know for sure Remus isn't the spy."

"I know it for sure," Lily says scathingly. "God, he's disgustingly in love with you, Black. I can't see why. You need to go home and patch this up."

"Yes," he agrees. "Yeah, I know. Let's do this spell, shall we, and then--"

"You said Peter was going to be here, right?" James interrupts. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Sirius confesses. "He said he was tied up with something; he'd be back early morning. Obviously we don't have time for that."

"You're right," Dumbledore says, stepping out of the fireplace with a roar of green flames. They all jump in shock and the old man pauses. "My apologies. For your assurance: in your third year, the glass vase on my desk at Hogwarts was broken, and I told you it was because of Professor McGonagall."

James grins. "You never did tell us if it really was."

"It was," he insists, and says no more on the matter. "Let's get this done, quickly."

...

Sirius heads back to his flat that night, having remembered Remus' words: _"I'd go straight to James and Lily right now and tell them to get their heads out of their asses and go with good sense over Sirius' notoriously risky plans, if I were you."_

Dumbledore took on the burden of being Secret Keeper, and he's more relieved than he thought he'd be.

"Remus?" he calls, when he has the door open. "I'm back."

He flips on the light.

The flat is trashed. Completely and utterly. Sirius takes in the sight of their broken table, torn couch, broken kitchenware, and ripped up clothing with shock and dawning horror.

"Remus?!" he calls again, more frantic now. "Moony?"

It's silent.

He draws his wand and heads into the wreckage, uncaring of the open door and the fact that he still has his coat on. He moves carefully, eyes scanning everything and heart beating faster with every step.

Their photos have been torn from the walls. Their bookshelf in the halls has been upended, and all the books are a mixture of torn and burned, scattered. He steps over them and tries not to look too closely; those are Remus' books, some of his most prized possessions. He'll have to see about getting them fixed.

He reaches the bedroom and opens the door.

The first thing he sees is Remus, out cold on the floor. His wand is next to him. Sirius doesn't pause, dropping to his knees and searching desperately for a pulse. When he finds one, he actually sobs with relief, leaning down to kiss his partner's forehead. "Oh, love," he whispers.

There's a sound to his right; his head snaps up.

"...Peter?"

His friend has his wand out, clearly ready for a fight. He's twitching with nerves, but his eyes are steady on Sirius' face. "Pete? What's going on?"

"He wasn't supposed to be there," Peter says, entirely unhelpful.

"Who? Where?"

"Bad enough that Dumbledore found the hideout in Godric's Hollow, but doubly worse that Remus had to be there; Stan could've taken you, but not both of you, and certainly not even Remus alone. We'd expected that he'd be in Austria, maybe Hungary. I thought you'd reject having Remus with you."

Some things are starting to make horrible, horrible sense. A sense of foreboding washes over him. "Wormtail, mate, you're not making any sense," he says, praying that he's wrong and this is some kind of nightmare. He'd like to wake up.

"We can't have Remus in England, no way. He's too dangerous."

"Who're you talking about? Why can't Remus be here? He lives here, with me."

"Yes, and you've been suspicious for months. I thought you'd throw him out by now."

"He's my _fiancé_ ," Sirius says, indignant. He ignores the memory that had wondered last week if Remus was just going to leave again. Leave him again.

"Irrelevant," Peter dismisses. "I don't know what changed your mind, but you're right--Remus isn't the spy. I am. I'll have to make sure, then, that neither of you leave here tonight, which is unfortunate. Bellatrix will be especially angry; she wanted to kill you herself. But oh well."

Sirius has been the better wizard his whole life, over Peter. Though the rat dodges his first few spells and counters effectively, Sirius has him down within a few minutes.

Peter lies on his bedroom floor, tied up and stunned. Sirius has the bizarre thought that he needs a new place to live, now.

He calls for Dumbledore.

...

For Remus' own safety, they don't take him to St. Mungo's. They take him to Hogwarts, where he's treated by Madam Pomfrey. She is properly shocked and saddened by the news and takes Remus into the private room he'd spent half of his Hogwarts years stuck in.

It takes an alarming two full days for Remus to wake up. It was some kind of dark curse that Peter had used. Sirius is baffled; how did this happen?

He spends every moment by Remus' side. Dumbledore takes the news to Lily and James, so Sirius doesn't know how they're taking it or what they think on the matter; no doubt James especially will be taking it hard. He wants to check on them, but he wants to be with Remus more.

"I could draw this blasted ceiling by memory. Why am I here?"

Sirius jumps at the sound of Remus' voice. "Remus. Thank Merlin you're awake. How are you? Let me call Pomfrey."

"Sirius," Remus says.

He pauses, then settles back into his chair. "...I know we should probably talk," he ventures. Remus lets out a huff of laughter.

"That would be a good idea, yes," he agrees. "Let's start with my earlier question: why am I here?"

"You don't remember?" Sirius asks, alarmed. "Peter hit you with some kind of curse. You've been out for two days now."

"Peter?" Remus asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Then his eyes widen. "Yes! Peter--he's the spy--"

"Yes, we know," Sirius says, and grabs his hand to calm him. "He's been arrested. They found the Dark Mark and it's a one-way ticket to Azkaban."

Remus settles back into the pillows, eyeing him oddly. "...were you worried?" he asks.

" _Worried?_ " Sirius repeats, incredulous. "Of course I was worried. You were hit with some kind of dark magic and one of my close friends was hauled off to prison for treason. Yes, I've been worried."

"I just--"

Remus cuts himself off, gaze finding the floor. He's stiff and there's no effort to hold Sirius' hand in return; once he realizes, he lets go, stung.

He knows he shouldn't be. He was the one who doubted. He was the one to tear the rift.

It still hurts that Remus apparently doesn't want to try and mend it. Tears threaten to appear but he forces them down.

"Remus, I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'll do everything I can to make it up to you. I just saw you leaving, all the time, and you couldn't tell me anything, and you always came back hurting and--and then you'd be gone again in a day or two. I know what You-Know-Who has been promising and... well, I let my own fear get the best of me. I should've known better. I've loved you half my life, and still do, and I want to fix this. I miss you, and I know I don't have the right to ask for you not to leave, but I'm going to ask anyway."

Remus is quiet for a long time. Sirius waits with growing resignation. He'll be sorry for the rest of his life.

"Do you really love me?"

Remus speaks to the duvet. He won't look up.

"Yes," Sirius says immediately. "I do. So, so much. I do--I do love you. Even though all of this I've loved you. It caused me so much pain, you know, to think this stuff--can't tell you how many nights I fell asleep and dreamed about you."

Finally Remus meets his eyes again. There's tears on his face and this triggers Sirius to start crying, too, and this is a mess, he thinks wildly. Through wordless communication that only comes from years of familiarity, Remus scoots over on the bed and Sirius climbs in beside him, pulling him close.

"You're an idiot," Remus murmurs, and Sirius laughs.

"James said that, too, but he wasn't that nice about it."

"I imagine he wasn't," Remus agrees.

Several minutes pass. Sirius just breathes and holds on, terrified of losing the only thing that keeps him going. The only thing that begins to settle that fear is that Remus holds on just as tightly.

"I love you, too, you know," Remus says, and then kisses him for the first time in what feels like forever.


End file.
